Leonard here. The following column is written by my colleague Mark Searby highlighting British cinema past and present. Please enjoy A Bit of Crumpet.
Music in mid-1970s Britian was becoming fractured. Punk was rising quickly led by The Sex Pistols. Rock music was going through a change with raw-er bands like Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin. Pop music was being dominated by flamboyant artists such as Elton John and Freddie Mercury. And David Bowie was ushering in a wave of androgyny. Then, lower down the music pole were bands from working class towns that weren’t about being the most proficient, but were about just have a damn good time. Slade was one of those bands. Mainly known today for their mega-Christmas hit ‘Merry Xmas Everybody.’ However, before that they rocked out tracks like ‘Cum On Feel The Noize,’ ‘My Oh My’ and ‘Mama Weer All Crazee Now.’ This band from Wolverhampton in the West Midlands were making Rock music but with a bit of glamour – Glam Rock, as it would come to be called.
During the middle of the 1970s, when Slade’s popularity was increasing every single day, they released a film. A film that charted the rise of a fictional band called Flame, where each member of Slade played the same sort of member in Flame. But Slade In Flame was no mere bubbly pop, upbeat film for their fans. Absolutely not. Writers Andrew Birkin and Dave Humphries (with the aid of Slade) and director Richard Loncraine decided to go the opposite way and show the seedy side of the music business. A side that had not really been exposed before. Slade In Flame is a bleak, dirty, devious and unscrupulous film that feels much more at home nowadays, in the age of music reality TV shows, than it did upon release. It has, over the decades since release, become a cult classic, and it’s easy to see why.
Part-time band Flame, formed of working-class lads, start out on their journey by playing weddings (a fight breaks out at their first event) and working men’s clubs (where the miserable patrons would prefer them to stop playing so they can do the crossword in silence). These unwelcoming gigs don’t raise the bar in terms of getting bigger & better gigs. However, they do raise the bar when it comes to them all starting to work together and see who plays what and where and when in each track. Arguments ensure off stage. But all of these, the highs & the lows, make them better musicians. Even playing some gigs from the dodgy working men’s club owner Ron Harding doesn’t stop their love for playing. And it is during one night at Harding’s club that a music executive see’s the band and believes there is potential to take them all the way to the top.
And here is where the film gets into the murky waters of 1970s music industry. Initially welcomed into the record label’s fold with a big party, it’s not until later that the band discover that some of those at their record label have never heard of them or if they have heard of them don’t like/understand their music. It’s a real kick in the teeth for Flame, who believed they were loved from top to bottom at the record label because the man who signed them – Robert Seymour – told them so. But Seymour has his own problems with Harding, who says he is the band’s manager and has a legally binding contract with them, so half of what Seymour gets from the band. Then it gets very hot & heavy between them with each of them trying to oneupman the other. Harding sends heavies round to Seymour. Seymour continues to throw his figurative weight around with Harding because he has the backing of the record label: “Don’t worry, if you can’t find the contract just put it in the post. I must go. Thanks for the tea… and biscuits.” All of that away from the band is fascinating to watch as it’s a bleak drama-cum-thriller about exploiting musicians and the music. And Tom Conti is outstanding as Robert Seymour. A real schemer with tendencies to only play the game if he knows he will get what he wants – money.
And the band play on. During all this time Flame continue their rise. But money and power and fame corrupt and there are arguments. Which we know is so true to life, even to this day. Yet, when they are on stage and belting out the songs it’s like a concert film. You can feel the energy coming off the screen. They are energetic. They look good and they sound good. This is Slade in all but name, and this is why Slade were such a big British band in the 70s. They entertained the crowds. So much so that we do see a little bit of the group-y love that most bands get involved in. Nothing sexist or distressing. Just a slight showing of the obsession that fans go to in-order to be close to their favourite musicians. However, by today’s standards, these scenes are a little bit tame and oh-so-British in their ‘we can only show so much.’ Which is odd considering the entire rest of the film is a cynical look at the front and back end of the music business.
This is not the music biopic anyone will expect. Sure, it’s fun and a bit frothy at times with the band. Their outfits are quintessentially 70s and the music is foot-tapping great. However, it’s the darkness the film brings when it talks about the music business and the grubby side of it all. Nobody expected it back in 1975 upon the film’s release, and I think many will be quite shocked even today by how seedy the film gets. It’s a warts-and-all music biopic that is the very opposite of something like Bohemian Rhapsody. In fact, Slade In Flame would make a great double bill with This Is Spinal Tap. That being the comedy take on the music business and this being the serious and truthful take on it.
Bravo to the writers, director and Slade for making a music film so gritty, bleak and uncompromising.
SLADE IN FLAME is now available Blu-Ray/DVD (dual format) from the BFI.
